Returning home is such a dangerous reality. The changes that may have settled on us may go unnoticed in the little worlds we may create around ourselves in foreign lands. But, when the spotlight suddenly shifts to the returned prodigal trudging back up the path, to a homeland which may have remained largely unchanged, the pits and creases show up more vivid than ever.
The fear of reprisals and raised eyebrows that could follow is simply overwhelming. People on Planet Home for some reason fail to realize that change is a natural and even more importantly, inevitable necessity for progression.
Why should we have to always crop our desires, as childish as they may seem, to suit their skewed perceptions of a world, ideal to them?
Prejudice never showed much reason but always had has the iron fist to knock us off our feets. People don’t care about the golden fallen leaves or the swirls of dust or other little nothings but share a divine passion in the hair of the returnee. “OOOh…Look at it! Why? No hair cutters in your land?…”
But why oh why, I ask in my mind, do you obsess over things so trivial and truly meaningless?
It suffocates to live in a land of people whose biggest concern is the affair that the lady next door might be having. To be fair, she is at-least truly “alive”, unlike the parasitic existence the ‘nay-sayers’ of Planet Home lead.
In effect, we feel more and more comfortable living away from things familiar to us in a dire hope to be our true selves. To shed the masks and feel our real faces, we run away, in the name of jobs and money. While the homes we grew up in innocence and unknowing, become alien and distant objects in our rear-view mirrors. Pleasurable memories we may have had in them gradually amounting to nothing more than just swirling specks of dust.